


Live or Die

by TemariDesertStorm



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 12:54:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10640277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TemariDesertStorm/pseuds/TemariDesertStorm
Summary: He is Joker, the leader. Their trump card. He's flexible in any type of situation. That is how he can wait. He can wait, knowing that the door will open and his fate will be decided, no matter who is waiting on the other side.





	

He wonders absently how long he'll have to wait until something happens.

He sits calmly, one leg folded over the other, hands clasped on the table, staring at the door across from him. Soon, the door will open. Soon, his fate will be decided. How? He's not quite sure. His mind is still hazy from the drugs, only moderately aware of the dull ache of the beating he endured. He's wet, cold, hungry, thirsty, sore, tired, and impatient.

He misses his glasses, absently occurring to him that they're not there. He doesn't need them, of course, but the feel of them of his face is reassuring, something to take his mind off things. He'll have to pick them up when he gets back home... _if_ he gets back home. The fact that it's in doubt does little too ease his tension.

It's too quiet. The only sounds are his own breathing and the soft hum of a fan somewhere in the distance, pumping air into the room from a tiny vent. It hasn't been this quiet since he was brought into this room, what with being unconscious, the rough interrogation, and the prosecutor dragging every fuzzy detail out of his mind. The quiet is unnerving, but he doesn't let it show. He's used to being surrounded by noise.

He misses his friends. That hurts more than the physical pain. Hurts more than the drugs pulling at his consciousness. He's so used to their presence, constant and stifling and reliable. He's said nothing about them to anyone, not even the prosecutor. They're _his_ friends, his secret, tucked away neatly in his heart to be unfolded and treasured silently in moments like this.

Ryuji's boisterous idiocy and infectious energy.

Staring idly at the stitching on Ann's hood as he sat behind her in class.

The appraising look on Yusuke's face before he said something incomprehensible.

Makoto's proper demeanor, falling away to cold calculation and raging fury.

Futuba clinging to his arm, her fingers trembling slightly.

Haru's presence accentuated by the smell of greenery and soil.

Morgana sitting in his desk, tail lazily thumping against his leg like a heartbeat.

He knows that what he's doing is for them as much as it is for himself. He was the only one who could pull it off. It had to be him. He knows, and that is why he's endured everything they can throw at him and more.

He will not break. He will not bend.

He is Joker, the leader. Their trump card. He's flexible in any type of situation.

That is how he can wait. He can wait, knowing that the door will open and his fate will be decided, no matter who is waiting on the other side. No matter who he sees, one way or another, his enemy will watch him die, will relish in victory over his corpse, and face the world as a hero of his own making. Joker has played his part. All he can do is hope he managed to uphold his end of the plan.

His mind is too hazy to remember exactly what he did or if he managed to accomplish it, but he'll know when the door opens.

Life or death. Two sides of a coin that hold his fate. He has flipped the coin, made his bet. All he can do is see if the dealer has called his bluff.

The click of the door echoes in the room like a gunshot. Will there be another?

The stakes in this game are high. It's the only kind of game worth playing.

Joker smiles.


End file.
